


i wish i had a river so long

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic? kind of, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:51:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The winter is not Fitz's favorite time of year. Written as a gift for the aosexchange :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wish i had a river so long

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own AoS or anything. The lyrics used at the beginning of this (and in the title) belong to the wonderful Joni Mitchell. This is dedicated to the wonderful toxic-lashton on Tumblr dot com!
> 
> This is completely unbeta'd and I have been out of the writing loop, so all errors are on foolish old me.

_oh, i wish i had a river so long, i would teach my feet to fly_

Fitz shivers, hands shoved into his coat pockets for an escape from the harsh December chill while he waited for his shuttle. The winters feel colder away from home, which should seem impossible, but there’s something missing in the wind here that he just couldn’t shake.

The bus arrives almost ten minutes late, but was nearly empty; one of the benefits of making trips to the library at the crack of dawn.

The library, thankfully, is just as deserted. A sleepy student Fitz recognizes from one of his classes is slumped over their laptop, guzzling back a thermos filled with caffeine, and a small group of eager freshman flock in one corner, but other than that, Fitz is the only soul in the vicinity, and that was the way he liked it.

He settles himself on the second floor near a window overlooking the campus, and ends up fixated on a pair of squirrels duking it out on a tree branch outside, bewildered by the fact that squirrels were even out at all.

“Really, Fitz. I don’t know why I expect more from you,” says a soft familiar voice. “You are never going to get any work done.”

He leans forward, head resting on his hands, eyes still locked on the dueling critters. “I’ve got my money on the brown one.”

“Fitz, lives and futures depend on you.”

“Lives and futures have always depended on us, Jem.”

A heavy sigh. “The responsibilities you have now are just as important, if not greater, and you know it. Stop watching squirrels like a senile old coot and get to work.”

With great reluctance, he tosses his bag onto his lap and pulls out his laptop and begins to clack away at his keyboard, beginning the early stages of his latest research endeavor.

As with all good things, he really didn’t realize how much he grew to appreciate the excitement and opportunities that came along with the dangers of working on the field until he left it. There is nothing he loves more than working in an actual lab, surrounded by millions of dollars worth of high-tech equipment, ready to be used at his disposal. Though he’s grown accustomed to this quieter life, he could honestly say that he has never been more bored in his life.

“It is rather dull, isn’t it?” she says, and he looks up from his reading to see her leaning back in the seat across from him, looking idly out the window. “You know, I don’t think Agent Coulson would have a problem with it if you wanted to go back.”

“I’m not going back, Jemma. That was settled long ago.”

“But Fitz-”

“It’s settled. Stop nagging me about this.”

She is silent for a moment, but speaks with greater purpose than before. “You’ve done it before, Fitz. You can do it again.”

He ignores her again and returns to his work. It’s bad enough she still lingers, refusing to ever leave him completely, but to have her so persistent and present... it’s almost as though she really is there, and it hurts even more to know the truth.

After about another half-hour of aimless squirrel watching and mindlessly surfing the internet, he manages to force himself back into concentration long enough to compile a few pages of notes, which he considers decent enough to be successful. Though it was still rather early in the morning, final exams were approaching and the library was beginning to become overrun with students. His first class didn’t start for another three hours, but there was not enough that he could do that would justify having to sit among a bunch of caffeine-ridden, stressed out young adults clammering at the last minute to complete assignments and tasks they’ve had weeks, if not months, to do.

“Reminds you of the old days, doesn’t it?” she says again, voice whipping in the wind around his ears.

“Ah, yes. The good old days,” he says, sounding half-sarcastic and half-forlorn.

“You’re on the giving end of the calamity now, professor. And the semester is almost over. Chin up and shoulders straight.”

He rolled his eyes and tightened his scarf around his neck, wincing slightly as he stepped out again into the bitter Bostonian air.

“You know, one day, these will be the good old days.”

He scoffs. “I really highly hope you’re wrong.”

“Oh, Fitz,” her voice laughs, almost creating an echo around him. “When have I ever been wrong?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SO I know this is kind of mean, but a lot of the details of this are kind of up to your own interpretation. Where Simmons is and what happened to her are completely up to you! 
> 
> Hope your holidays were a lot happier than this corny sentimental angst-fest was. Thanks for reading!


End file.
